


A Friend in Need

by jest_tal



Series: Snap Back to Reality [2]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Gen, Wade Wilson & Peter Parker are Bros, Wade Wilson Takes Care of Peter Parker, sort of :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 08:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jest_tal/pseuds/jest_tal
Summary: Now that Wade thought about it, it had been quite a while since he'd seen Spider-man out and about...





	A Friend in Need

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, folks. 
> 
> 1\. Not beta read and written way way too quickly.  
> 2\. I haven't read any of the Spidey & Deadpool comics. My characterization is mostly movie-derived and my knowledge of their canon interactions subject to the influence of fan-fic summaries and the Den of Geek article I googled this morning.
> 
> And - shout out to sniperct and her work "The Things We Need to Say". I wouldn't have thought "Wait, what has DP been doing this whole time?" without that awesome read :)

Thunk. Thunk.

The heels of Peter’s feet made a soft sound, easily lost in the whistle of cold wind, as he kicked them against the steel sides of the building. He was a good twenty floors up and it was only by the grace of his spider-suit that he wasn’t freezing. There was only a token barrier between the edge of the roof and a long fall, barely enough to dissuade an able-bodied man, much less one with the agility and strength of Spider-Man.

Peter sat on its edge and looked at the city lights spread out before him. He watched the headlights follow the snake like twist of a distant highway, and wondered how many of the people inside were heading home.

He looked down, past his feet, to the pavement so very far below.

“Oookay,” a familiar voice was the only warning Peter got before a woosh of red and black plopped itself down on the rooftop beside him. “This looks fun! What are we doing? Contemplating our navels, dreaming of the day when man can truly break the surly bonds of earth and fly? Hmm?”

“Come on, man,” Peter half-heartedly tried to pull away from the arm, Deadpool’s arm, now draped over his shoulders. It was like trying to free himself from a toddler octopus.

“Nope. Nope. Not until you tell your bestest buddy, Deadpool, what has you up here all by your lonesome. Though, it’s not like I can’t guess.”

Peter regarded the masked face beside him skeptically, “Really? You think you can guess. Alright, hit me with it.”

Deadpool’s mask shifted as the man beneath it grinned. He leaned away from Spider-man, though he did so without actually moving his hand from the man’s shoulders. “Let’s see. We got brooding? Check. We got sad Tobey McGuire eyes.” He darted forward, brow furrowing, “Or, no. Are they more Pineish or Johnsony? Tell you something Spidey, one of these days you are going to have to clear that one up for me.”

“Wade…”

“Fine, fine. Point is, you are showing all the signs of having an angsty, melodramatic, pining, sort of depressive thing going on which, as you know, isn’t going to fly with the fan-girls. I mean, they love that sort of shit but come on. There’s a limit you know.”

“Oh, yeah,” Peter said a little dryly, “Sure.”

Deadpool gestured to his chest with his free hand, “So, naturally, here I am! Your very own personal Clarence-Pool. Or maybe Mary-Pool? You wouldn’t know it but underneath the rolicking-rolling cancer, my skin is flawless.”

There were certain rules to follow if you wanted to survive talking with Deadpool and keep your sanity.

First, when the man looked straightforward and into nothing, it was usually best to just ignore anything he came up with. Deadpool frequently just stopped and addressed an unseen audience, but god only knew what he thought that audience was saying back.

Second, every conversation had at least a seventy percent chance of referencing something to do to sex or, as Wade sometimes called them, “naughty bits”. Granted, it might be a veiled reference, but it was more often than not, pretty blatant.

And third, when it came to long rambles referencing things that were completely unfamiliar or made no sense, it was best to just give up on trying to understand the details and just try and get the general jist of it.

“Clarence...like “It’s a Wonderful Life? Wait, you think I’m up here to jump?” Peter blinked. Suddenly the hand still rather firmly attached to his shoulder made more sense.

“You…. aren’t?”

“No, no, geeze,” Peter laughed, though the sound fell flat.

Deadpool’s arm dropped and he exhaled indignantly. The eyes of his mask narrowed and he looked at the sky accusingly, “What the hell, man?! I was comfy! I was watching Peaky Blinders and filling in the dialogue with non-misogynistic alternatives!”

Peter’s lips twitched upwards in a smirk, “Sorry to disappoint you Wade. But I’m fine.” He clapped the mercenary on the shoulder with a friendly hand. “Though, thanks for stopping by, though, I guess.”

Deadpool grumbled and shifted his weight, making to get up to his feet.

And Peter looked back down to his, and the street so very far below.

Deadpool looked from Peter’s feet, to his face, and then back again.

“Shit,” he said and then sat back down with an overly dramatic sigh.

Peter blinked at him, “What?”

“Nothing,” he said and then shook his head, “Damn it’s hard to be such an awesome friend.” He poked a finger at Peter. “You are sad. Downright blue.. Which, you know, super hero with a tragic backstory, yeah. But, didn’t you have some sort of… I don’t know. Life-changing field trip or something? Learned a lesson? All that jazz.” His hands waggled to emphasize said jazz. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you patrolling again. I’m so proud of you!”

“Look,” Peter said, starting to feel a little annoyed. To be called out by Deadpool of all people. “I sort of ran into a few people. Helped save the world again, a bit. Well, mostly helped this amazing kid save his world. Almost died, the usual. And maybe, maybe something about that whole thing reminded me to … do better. You know?” He glanced sideways at Deadpool.

The mercenary had cocked his head to the side but didn’t interrupt.

Peter looked back out to the city, “But, it’s a lot, Wade. Trying to make things right. Trying to…” he broke off and shook his head. It was too hard to explain and it wasn’t like Deadpool was likely to understand, “I’m fine, man. I’m just...tired. It’s been a long day.”

“You know, I hear there are these things called beds. And, surprise, surprise, they can be used for things other than monkey-fun-happy times.” Deadpool said off-handedly, but more quietly than was his usual. “Any reason you aren’t going to find yours? If you are tired, Spidey-boy, go home.”

Home.

Home used to be where Aunt May was before she died. It used to be where MJ was before he’d mucked it all up. Now, home was an empty apartment, silent ceilings, and judgmental bare walls.

“Ooh, boxes,” Deadpool looked up sharply as if spotting something above Peter, seemingly cheered. After a moment, his brow furrowed beneath his mask. Then, without warning, he stood up bouncing on his feet, “Okay Tiger. Come on. Let’s go.” He stuck his hand out demandingly.

Peter was confused. “What?”

“No, no. Who. As in “who” is going to come back to my chateau of awesomeness, help me vicariously run a 1920’s irish mob correctly, WHILE encouraging the women around me to go get their girl power on, all while drinking appropriately bad-tasting beers and shoving various types of fast food in our mouths.” Deadpool leaned down to whisper, “Here’s a hint, Spidey. It’s you. Now come on!”

That was...nice. Of course, Peter was trying to lessen the amount of junk food that went into his mouth. But, the very fact that Deadpool would make the invitation at all was….

“Wade, that’s really nice, but…” Peter hesitated but his heart wasn’t really in it. When was the last time anyone had invited Peter over like that?

“But?” Wade’s hand remained waiting mid-air, “Come on. You can scold me about my reckless blood-thirsty ways, just like the old days!”

Peter grabbed his hand and stood. “You mean the old days when you’d try to kill me at least one time out of three?” He joked.

Deadpool shrugged, “What can I say? I’ve grown!”

Chuckling under his breath, Peter shot out webbing to the neighboring building. “Alright, I’ll give you lift, then. No grabbing my ass this time though, got it?”

“Pool’s promise.” Wade raised his hand solemnly and then trotted forward. “You know, I would have invited ya over earlier, Spidey but I didn’t wanna interfere with your arc.”

Peter paused, “...thank you?”

“De nada!” Deadpool responded cheerily.

Peter shook his head, snorted, and then swung back out over the city again with Deadpool in tow.

It took him a few minutes to realize he was smiling.


End file.
